


Bad Decisions, Coffee and Tattoos

by pherryt



Series: Clint Barton Bingo [4]
Category: MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A little bit of angst, Coffee, Confessions, Cuddling, First Date, Fluff, Karaoke, Low Self Esteem, M/M, Tattoos, bad decissions, drunk!clint, feeling, kiss, piecing things together after the fact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 18:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18722266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: The tattoo itself was pretty fucking sweet. Except for two things:One – he didn’t remember getting it and two – it loudly proclaimed him and Bucky as a thing when they’d only been on one date! Sure, Clint had feelings but it was too soon to blurt them out, right?Especially as he couldn’t quite remember the entire date.





	Bad Decisions, Coffee and Tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> So i had a dream the other day - totally unrelated to this fic story wise, but absolutely the fault of the title - where in i was at some sort of show/convention or something in a small house and i was running around and buying rare to find Fraction Hawkeye books and being the total envy of others - and the only thing i coud really remember was that the title was "Something, Something and Tattoos"
> 
> I told the MCU Bad Decisions Buddies as i lamented not remembering the rest of the title and sleepy cryptid helped me fill in the blanks. 
> 
> then i was like, "I wonder which bingo square this would fit" and i picked out a couple that seemed promising and Feathers-and-cigarettes picked "First Date" out of the choices i presented.
> 
> thanks guys!

Okay, this looked bad.

Clint ran a finger alongside the reddened skin of his arm, the very – _very_ \- fresh black, red and a variety of purples ink flashing up at him boldly.

Well, okay, not _bad_ bad. The tattoo itself was pretty fucking sweet. Except for two things:

One – he didn’t remember getting it and two – it loudly proclaimed him and Bucky as a _thing_ when they’d only been on one date! Sure, Clint had _feelings_ but it was too soon to blurt them out, right?

Especially as he couldn’t quite remember the entire date.

What the hell had happened? Oh god, he’d embarrassed the hell out of himself, hadn’t he? _Par for course, Barton, you moron_ , he thought as he groaned softly. He couldn’t hear the groan, which was probably for the best. He didn’t need more proof of how pathetic he was.

He continued to stare at the new tattoo, biting his lip. The red star and purple arrow were kinda front and center over a  - was that a shield or a bullseye? Oh, maybe it was both? – and the wavy bit reminded him of Bucky’s hair. He wasn’t too sure what was up with the gold cracki – oh shit, was that Kintsugi? That, that made a lot of sense actually.

For both of them.

His fingers itched to trace over the lines but he knew better than to do that when it was healing. He stared at it, fascinated. Still… as cool as it was, how the fuck did he wind up with a tattoo on his arm when he’d gone out on a _date_? Not that he had anything against tattoos; he had an entire sleeve of them on his other arm, but he hadn’t yet started this one.

Except, now he had.

Okay, take it slow. He just needed to retrace his steps, right?

Bucky had asked him out on a date a couple of days ago, right after Clint had taken a header off a short building – the fall hadn’t been bad at all, certainly nothing to write home about, but Bucky had still freaked out. Clint snorted as the memory ran through him.

_“How the hell am I supposed to work up the courage to ask you out if you die on me, Barton?!”_

_“I’m not gonna die! It wasn’t even that high up and – wait, what?” Clint blinked up at Bucky’s face, having the perfect view despite the curtain of hair because Bucky was still holding Clint after racing to catch him. He’d gone to his knees doing it, grunting as he bore Clint’s weight – Clint knew he wasn’t light, but it didn’t seem to bother Bucky half as much as the need to catch him had._

_“Uh…” Bucky’s eyes had gone wide and someone beside them had choked but Clint hadn’t spared a glance, their eyes frozen in place, the sounds around them fading away like one of those grand movie moments – or maybe his aids were running low._

_“No, no, if you asked me out, no take backsies! Cause the answer is yes!” Clint blurted out, afraid Bucky would do just that. And yeah, his aids were running low cause he could barely hear his own words._

_Bucky sagged for a brief second before his usual smirk bloomed on his face and Clint had beamed back._

Thankfully, the fight had been over, Clint thought, rolling over in the bed onto his back. So. Date. That was supposed to be last night – the first chance since they’d gotten back to actually _do_ anything.

They’d eventually decided on the pizza joint around the block. It was a regular haunt of theirs, so probably not the best idea for a first date but Bucky was still a bit… skittish with new things and crowds of people, so they’d agreed to start with something familiar and then let the night flow from there.

And flow it had, because dinner had been followed by a pub that had karaoke. That had been _his_ idea and only the promise that it wouldn’t be overly crowded had won Bucky over. It was a quaint little place, on a weeknight, and its biggest draw _was_ the karaoke. Bucky hadn’t been much into singing himself, but definitely into getting drinks, and then Clint had sung his first song.

He’d come off the stage to find Bucky gaping at him. The astonishment had given way to pure glee and a sparkle in his eyes that Clint couldn’t say no to as Bucky eagerly signed him up for another song every time Clint’s back was turned, the choices absolutely eclectic – ranging from something really pretty awesome to things most people would be embarrassed to admit they knew the lyrics for.

Not that Clint minded. Or had any shame. And for Bucky’s smile, he’d sing every embarrassing word he knew.

After the bar, though, _that’s_ where things were a little fuzzy.

He squinted up at the ceiling. They’d… gone for a walk, towards… towards where? He couldn’t remember. On the walk they’d… petted a dog… picked up some street food because Clint was _always_ hungry and Bucky had that super solder metabolism. They’d almost cleaned some guy out of hot dogs, he was fairly sure.

Clint _may_ have shared his with the dog that had started to follow them – much to Bucky’s eye rolling amusement, or maybe it had been fond eye rolling, or both. Both was good- which meant, of course, that he’d had to buy more.

He vaguely remembered a fountain… and ice cream… maybe some selfies… had he climbed a tree at some point? And then… and then… _Fuck._

What had happened next?

His brow creased as he tried to parse through the rest of it but his thoughts were suddenly derailed when he sniffed the air, a heavenly scent wafting through his rooms. Clint hummed happily, briefly closing his eyes as he drunk in that _delicious_ coffee smell, before sitting up and opening them –

\--  and freezing because Bucky Barnes was walking barefoot and half naked with two mugs of ambrosia in his hands and the most content and happy smile Clint could ever recall on his face. Bucky’s eyes lit up as they met Clint’s and despite the confusion he still felt, Clint could feel the tug of an answering one spread across his face. Bucky was damn beautiful and thoughtful and sweet and he couldn’t deny the smile if he wanted to.

 _Aww… feelings…_ Clint was so screwed.

But maybe it was mutual? Evidence was pointing that way, right?

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Bucky said, handing Clint a steaming hot mug. Clint caught the words only because he’d been staring at Bucky the whole time and he twisted on the bed to reach for his aides. He slipped them in place, getting them settled and turned on, and when he turned back around, Bucky had eased beside him on the edge of the bed, his legs tucked up underneath him, cradling his own coffee.

That was when Clint noticed the tattoo on _Bucky’s_ arm.

It already looked like it had been healing for days – _damn super soldiers and their fast healing_ – but it hadn’t been there yesterday and it was almost an exact match for the one Clint bore on his own skin. It might have held an extra star or two, but was otherwise identical, straight down to Hawkeye colors, save for that one, single star in the center.

So… bad decisions all around? Or a good one? Whichever it was, Bucky didn’t seem to be mad about it, so either he hadn’t noticed yet – unlikely – or he returned those feelings?

Clint sipped his coffee, murmuring only ‘thank you’ while Bucky hummed in response. That was something he just _loved_ about Bucky – out of all the reasons he had to love Bucky – he never expected Clint to function before coffee, something even Steve continued to forget, thinking everyone would be as bright eyed and bushy tailed as he was at all times.

He was halfway through his coffee before he realized he’d slumped over into Bucky’s side, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind, a warm, quiet presence that had Clint nearly giddy.

“They look good,” Clint finally rumbled out as he drained the dregs of his coffee.

Bucky – always a man with few words, though some could argue that Clint more than made up for that - hummed agreement, taking Clint’s empty mug from his hand and setting both mugs down on the floor by their feet, turning to face him on the bed and taking his arm in his, staring down at the tattoo thoughtfully, the back up at Clint.

“You were… rather insistent last night. I probably shouldn’t have let you but… you’re particularly stubborn. And persuasive when you want to be. You don’t regret it – _them_ \- do you?” Bucky suddenly looked nervous. If you didn’t know the man, you’d never be able to tell, but Clint had spent quite a bit of time staring and cataloguing every little thing Bucky did. By now, he was probably the closest thing to an expert outside of Steve Rogers.

Which was, actually, kind of creepy, now that he thought about it. All that staring. Oh god. Clint was an actual _creep_ wasn’t he? He’d been creeping on Bucky Barnes who was – he suddenly realized - looking decidedly more worried the longer Clint stayed silent, getting worse and worse with every passing second.

Oh shit, he should really say something before Bucky bolted, shouldn’t he?

He fumbled for Bucky’s hands, taking both of them in his and squeezing, smiling gently at Bucky. “Hey, I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, made a lot of bad decisions, but this one? Is not one of those. I’m pretty gone on you, Bucky Barnes, if you haven’t noticed. As long as the feeling’s mutual, then I don’t regret a damn thing.”

Bucky’s face split into a wide grin that was ruined seconds later when his eyes dropped to Clint’s mouth and Bucky’s tongue darted out to lick his lips before leaning in to kiss Clint. Clint’s eyes fluttered shut at the first, soft touch of Bucky’s lips and he moaned, a sweet warmth filling his body in ways coffee never could.

Not that he’d abandon coffee for Bucky but, thankfully, he’d never have to choose between them.

When they parted, his lips spit slick and nicely swollen, he stared at Bucky dazedly. “Please tell me we didn’t do that or…or anything else last night, cause I don’t remember it and this, _us,_ is something I want to remember.”

Bucky chuckled and he cupped Clint’s face in his hand – his _metal_ hand. Bucky’’d come a long way from being afraid to touch anything with the arm that HYDRA had given him - rubbing his thumb over Clint’s cheek.

“Don’t worry, doll, nothing happened last night. You were a bit drunk and I wanted to wait.”

Clint let out a breath of relief. “Good. That’s good. Only, I have one teensy little question – “ he paused as Bucky raised a brow at him expectantly. “If we didn’t do anything, how come both of us are half dressed and… and you’re in my room?”

“My room, actually,” Bucky said. “And you were so fucking adorable flopped down on my bed and snortng that I didn’t have the heart to kick you out and, honestly, I didn’t want to. As for our clothes – you fell in the fountain out front of the tower and proceeded to drag me down with you.”

“… I didn’t,” Clint asked, mortified. He moved to hide his face in his hands but Bucky only chuckled and eased them away.

“Uh uh, sweetheart, don’t hide from me,” Bucky said.

“I’m such a disaster. Why do you even like me?” Clint argued. _Wait, why am I arguing this? Bucky’s like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Gift horse. Mouth. Stop fighting this._

“You’re not a disaster, Clint,” Bucky assured him.

“Uh, did you _not_ see me set fire to my pants the other day?” Clint should really shut up now.

“You had a victory dance over the smoldering remains of a particularly obnoxious doombot. I’ve had the same urge a time or two.” Bucky shrugged. “Could have happened to anyone.”

“Yeah, but it happened to _me_ ,” Clint pointed out. “These kinds of things _always_ happen to me. Usually because I make dumbass decisions.”

“Then I’ll just have to stick around to help you _not_ make dumb ass decisions, or bail you out when you do,” Bucky said, grinning. Suddenly, a thought seemed to occur to him and his smile fell. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

“Oh no!” Clint surged forward, grabbing Bucky in close before Bucky could do the smart thing and get up and walk away from Clint. “That’s the first dumb ass decision you’re going to make sure I do _not_ make. I don’t understand what you see in me, but I want this – I want you – I want _us_. And you’re gonna make sure I don’t do some self-sacrificing bullshit and let you go for your own good.”

Bucky relaxed in Clint’s hold, his arms coming up to wrap around Clint’s back, holding on tightly. He buried his face in Clint’s neck, Bucky’s hair and breath tickling Clint as he whispered, “Thank God,” hoarsely.

Pulling away slightly, Bucky stared into Clint’s eyes with suspiciously wet ones – or maybe those were Clint’s tears? – the hand on Clint’s back dragging him up into Bucky’s lap while the hand of the other was pulling him back in by his head and – _oh…_

_Another kiss…_

Clint gasped into Bucky’s mouth and squirmed closer. He was on board with this. So on board. Kissing Bucky was heaven, he was pretty damn sure.

When they finally parted, Clint had wrapped himself around Bucky like an octopus, and he dropped his head to Bucky’s shoulder, twisting to leave little kisses on Bucky’s neck. Eventually he settled, the two of them laying on the bed, cuddling. Clint twisted a little of Bucky’s hair around his fingers gently.

“This _is_ real, right? I’m not dreaming?” Clint asked softly, his voice cracking.

“Not a dream, doll, not unless I’m dreaming right along with you,” Bucky said.

“Then let’s just promise each other never to wake up.”

“I can get behind that,” Bucky said.

“Good,” Clint said, snuggling in, Bucky huffing out a light laugh. They fell asleep curled around each other, Bucky reaching over to gently tug Clint’s aides out of his ears and place them on the table.

Clint murmured a sleepy and absolutely content ‘thank you,’ his eyes already drifting closed as he relished in being held in Bucky’s strong arms, of the comfortable warmth of his body against his. He fell asleep to the light rumble of whatever Bucky said in response, and the soft touch of lips against his head.

Best bad decision he’d ever made.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> rebloggable [ tumblr post here](https://pherryt.tumblr.com/post/184672372176/bad-decisions-coffee-and-tattoos-marvel-clint)


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